Self-amusement can be a dangerous thing.
Having spent the last three hours grading papers from my classes—most of them quite good, by the way—with intermissions for washing the dishes and doing the laundry, and having my spirits slightly dimmed by the grey, chilly weather, I just indulged in some fantasies to enliven an otherwise dull afternoon and a slightly leaden spirit. My list included the following:
Having spent the last three hours grading papers from my classes—most of them quite good, by the way—with intermissions for washing the dishes and doing the laundry, and having my spirits slightly dimmed by the grey, chilly weather, I just indulged in some fantasies to enliven an otherwise dull afternoon and a slightly leaden spirit. My list included the following:
1) Buy an electronic cigarette and smoke it at Barnes and Noble.
2) Walk through the doors of Barnes and Noble, yell “Honey!” at the first woman I see, throw my arms around her, and then spring away, shouting, “Wrong woman! Wrong woman!”
3) Walk around Barnes and Noble asking various customers if they know where I could get a chainsaw pedicure.
4) Put on my beach hat and stroll around Barnes and Noble claiming to all and sundry that I am the reincarnation of Ernest Hemingway.
5) Ask various female customers at Barnes and Noble what books they would recommend for holiday gifts. (Once, desperate to write a review, I did this very thing and had a review written inside of two hours).
6) Smile at everyone seated near me in the Barnes and Noble coffee shop as if I not only know them, but am also privy to their deepest, darkest secret.
7) Stand at the front door and greet everyone who enters the store. “Welcome to Barnes and Noble!” Big smile and palm extended, ready for a handshake or a tip. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be hired as the nation’s first Barnes and Noble greeter.
The laundry should be dried by now.
Then it’s off to Barnes and Noble.
2) Walk through the doors of Barnes and Noble, yell “Honey!” at the first woman I see, throw my arms around her, and then spring away, shouting, “Wrong woman! Wrong woman!”
3) Walk around Barnes and Noble asking various customers if they know where I could get a chainsaw pedicure.
4) Put on my beach hat and stroll around Barnes and Noble claiming to all and sundry that I am the reincarnation of Ernest Hemingway.
5) Ask various female customers at Barnes and Noble what books they would recommend for holiday gifts. (Once, desperate to write a review, I did this very thing and had a review written inside of two hours).
6) Smile at everyone seated near me in the Barnes and Noble coffee shop as if I not only know them, but am also privy to their deepest, darkest secret.
7) Stand at the front door and greet everyone who enters the store. “Welcome to Barnes and Noble!” Big smile and palm extended, ready for a handshake or a tip. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be hired as the nation’s first Barnes and Noble greeter.
The laundry should be dried by now.
Then it’s off to Barnes and Noble.